Just Shoot Me...

So when someone tells you that nothing can prepare you for being a mom, LISTEN TO THEM!!! They aren't being overdramatic. They are telling you the truth. No matter how many friends of yours who have kids try to explain what life will be like after the baby is born or how many times you have watched someone close to you go through it, nothing can possibly prepare you for the heaven and hell that you are about to endure.

The rest of our hospital stay had its ups and downs including breastfeeding troubles, a fainting spell, a serious case of jaundice and of course the joys of having a new baby. Nothing we couldn't handle. But then you have to go home. Although many of my friends had previously told me how ready they were to get home, I have to admit I felt the opposite. You mean there is no cooking or cleaning to do and I have someone who will take good care of Abby for a six hour stretch every night so I can sleep??? Umm, where do I sign up for that now? It was great but I knew trouble loomed ahead when that gravy train ended.

After checking in for the induction Tuesday morning at 7:30, we finally got to check out on Saturday night around 6pm so we packed up camp and they wheeled me down to the car. Upon arrival to the parking garage, we began unloading the cart and the time came to put Abby in the car seat for the first time. While we followed orders from all of those baby books and installed the car seat ahead of time, no one ever told me that I should actually figure out how to adjust the straps. It took us almost 15 minutes to figure out how to get her to fit in that stupid seat - Parental failure #1.

Once we got home and my parents left, I realized that we were alone. There was no nurse to take her away for six hours when I wanted to sleep, no one there to do the dishes or make food. That is the part no one prepares you for. While my mom was a HUGE help (along with Marili later that week), I was still completely overwhelmed and sad. I couldn't even muster up the courage and energy to call many of my friends back because I didn't want to admit that, at the time, having a baby wasn't the greatest thing ever and I thought I had ruined my life. I really sank into this dark place that wasn't quite post partum depression, but certainly seemed like more than just the baby blues. It was hard. Much harder than I thought it would be. The lack of sleep was starting to get to me. The lack of adult interaction was starting to get to me. The lack of any life at all outside of the house was really starting to get to me. And then, I thought I hit the breaking point.

When Abby was 4 weeks old, JB's cousing JD was getting married in Salado, Texas. JB was in the wedding. As much as I love JD, I really didn't want to take Abby out of town at all and certainly not to hotel where her 2AM cries could wake up everyone in the building. It made me very nervous. Come to find out, I had good reason to be that nervous. Our first night there, we attended the end of the rehearsal dinner and then headed to the hotel. The boys were heading out to a bar to celebrate JD's last night of bachelorhood and I stayed with Abby for a couple of hours while JB went out. No problem there. The problem came when she wouldn't sleep - ANYWHERE!!! Not in the Pack N Play we drug from home or in her carrier or even on the bed with us. That night I slept for about 2 hours total and I was absolutely exhausted in the morning. JB had to go out with the boys again to get ready for the wedding and I simply couldn't keep my eyes open. Luckily, Byron and Gail were just a room over and were able to watch her for awhile so I could squeeze in a couple more hours of sleep. That whole day was horrible. I felt guilty for waking up everyone in the hotel, guilty for dumping her on Byron and Gail and guilty for getting so frustrated with an innocent little baby. Like I said, it was my breaking point (or so I thought).

When we got home from the trip, it was time to take Abby to her 1 month appointment. Upon arrival, they had us get her down to just her diaper and then weigh her. She wasn't gaining weight. So now, on top of my failure to have a natural childbirth, failure to keep my sanity over the wedding weekend, I could add failure to properly breastfeed my child. That was the true breaking point. After a couple more weeks of exclusive breastfeeding with some suggested changes to our routine, we went back for another weight check. Still not gaining enough so it was time to start supplementing with formula. We started with one bottle a day and kept going up by a bottle every week until she was on mostly formula and 1-2 breastfeedings per day. That was when things finally got better.

More to come...